Before
by Bunni Lis
Summary: In the year 2002 Buffy Summers is the known and famed slayer from The Hellmouth (AKA Sunnydale, CA). But who came before her? The story of Buffy's predecessor. *Chapter 3 Up!!* PLEASE R&R!won't add more until you do. :)
1. Brooklyn

Before

Brooklyn, New York, 1981:

The alley is dark and ends in a fenced off dead end. Fast footsteps are approaching, and a girl wearing shiny faux leather pants and a black shirt with red print that says "Fuck Off", runs hysterically down the alley. The gothy girl has a new look of terror on her pale white face when she reaches the end of the alley and find the dead end. She attempts to hide herself behind a beat up green dumpster but her tall spiked hair pokes over the edge. Her pursuer reaches the end of the alley. He is tall and muscular, with pale skin and a contorted face with fierce yellow catty eyes, he wears a simple black T-shirt and jeans. Unlike the girl he is calm and walks slowly towards the dumpster.

"Come on out now. I promise I don't bite…wait yes I do." He says and smiles evilly at his bad joke, revealing sharp fangs.

"Help me!" The girl screams. The man throws the dumpster against the other wall of the alley and rams the girl up against the wall.

"Well hello there." He says and opens his mouth to bite down on her neck.

"Hi." He whirls around to see a red haired pigtailed, mid-height, girl. She looks very out of place in such a slummy place, wearing a tiny pink belly shirt and faded cut off jean shorts. She smiles. "Oh you weren't talking to me were you?"

The man jumps at the red head and throws the other girl against the wall knocking her out. He lands on her and push her to the ground. She is unafraid. He leans in to bit her, when, unfenced to him, she pulls a wooden stake out of her back pocket and put her hand between his chest and hers. The man leans in. Suddenly he stops and looks at the sky in pain as the stake pierces his heart. The man bursts into dust and is blown away be the wind. 

The girl stands, brushes her self off and walks over to the slumped body of the Goth girl. She checks for a pulse and finds that there is one. She picks the girl up walks back to the street and lays her down on a bench. The red head checks her watch, it's 12:03 PM. 

"Just another night's work." She mutters to herself, and walks down the street to flag a cab down.

Author's note: All characters in this story belong to me except it was inspired by Joss Wendon's _Buffy the Vampire Slayer, _and one _Buffy_ character has a short appearance in the end.


	2. Home

Chapter 2: Home

Queens, New York:

I'll have to move again soon. The red-haired girl thinks as she sits in a dark, small, cheap and lightly furnished apartment. She is sitting on a worn out brown leather couch that folds out to a bed and is staring at the small antenna TV, although her mind is else where. The small-bared window is open and the wind, which has a faint smell of gasoline on it (as it always seems to have in this part of New York), blows a strand of her curly red hair in her face. She fingers her hair. Red. She is of pure Irish origin. Though she was born and raise in the USA. 

I'm all alone. I need to face this to deal with is. She thinks 

She draws a piece of ripped paper from the back pocket of her cut off jean shorts. It reads:

****

MEMORY RITE 

You will need: 

Yellow candles 

Kamea of sol 

A box of any shape or size 

A solar incense 

Music of a childlike nature to enhance the atmosphere 

She knows what she must do. She stands and walks to the small kitchenette. She takes a brown paper bag and walks with it to the center of the same apartment. She sits on the floor and extracts a small oak box with a lid. Then she takes four yellow candles, a small clay pot with rice in it and three sticks of sweet smelling incense. She sticks the incense sticks in the pot, and opens the small oak box. The inside of the box it glossy black, and inside it is an ivory square that has numbers in columns that looks like this:

6

32

3

34

35

1

7

11

27

28

8

30

19

14

16

15

23

24

18

20

22

21

17

13

25

29

10

9

26

12

36

5

33

4

2

31

****

She places the candles in a circle around herself, and the incense in front of her. She closes her eyes.

"Flame." She whispers.

Suddenly the candles and incense are burning and filling the room with a sweet honey like smell. She breathes in and then out several times. Then she moves into a lotus like position with her legs crossed. She meditates for a few minuets then speaks.

"It is my will to greet my past and accept it for what it is," she states evenly then continues in a poetic voice, 

"I call the past to meet the present, 

That the future may be bright. 

I bring myself forth from the dark, 

And hold me to the light. 

Let not the past control my present, 

Let not my future be dark as night. 

I meet and greet my with open arms,

And move back into the light."

Her eyes now closed are squeezed tight in anguish, for all around her she hers whispers. Unearthly voices taunting her from afar. Suddenly on familiar voice comes out among the many, it whispers to her,

"Alisa." 

Alisa opens her eyes almost tearful but reluctant to cry. She grasps the ivory square in her left hand as she looks into the box. Within it she sees a familiar whitewashed brick, three-story mansion. Alisa closes her eyes again, but when she opens them she is no longer in the cheap, dingy New York apartment, instead she is clad in a white dress out side the house she saw in the box. Though it is no longer day as it was in the vision in the box, but a deep night. An angry scream is heard from inside the house. 

"I HATE YOU!" The voice screams. It is the same voice that whispered to Alisa just a few moments ago in the apartment. A look of pain streaks across Alisa's face when she hears the scream, but it some fades, and she stands and waits. Suddenly the front door of the house is flung open. A girl wearing all black and far too much mascara, which is streaking down her face with tears. The girl has a silver pentacle around her neck that bounces off her chest at she runs down the steps outside the door. The girl runs straight through Alisa, whom doesn't flinch in the least. The girl continues running down the street, her short straight red hair bouncing off her shoulders. The door is still open. And crying can be heard from inside.

"Home." Alisa says. 


	3. Memories

Chapter 3: Memories Part I

Alisa begins to walk up the stairs to the house. Once through the door she stand in the hall way. In front of her is a large staircase, to her left is a door way and to her right a closed door. She pauses and takes in all the sights of the house. Her house. 

A red haired woman looking to be about in her late 30's exit's the doorway to Alisa's left. The women wears a white T-shirt and blue jeans. She looks very shaken and upset. The woman closes the front door and Alisa watchs her pain in her eyes. The women sighs and returns to the room to Alisa's left. Alisa follows her. The women sits down at a kitchen table. This is the kitchen of the house. And there is chicken roasting in the oven. Alisa stands by the woman. She extend her hand towards the woman, but before she touches her a voice is heard coming from upstairs and Alisa withdraws her hand back quickly.

"Mom!" The voice from upstairs is matched by foot steps running down the step. 

A second later a mid-height, red curly-haired girl wearing a black, blue and white cheerleaders uniform with a large "T" on the shirt, enters the kitchen. The girl is Alisa. The other Alisa is not shocked but more pain enters her eyes. 

"Don't." The Alisa wearing the white dress says. But no one hears her.

The Alisa that just entered the room holds a large bulky gray portable phone, and leans against the door frame of the door way.

"Mom, there is some British guy on the phone for you. Says he's from some council or something." The Alisa in the doorway says. She walks over and hands her mother the phone. The white dressed Alisa watches with saddness in her eyes.

"Hello?" The woman says into the phone, "Yes, this is she." 

The woman listens to the person on the other side of the phone, as the cheerleader Alisa turns around to leave the room. Then when the cheerleader Alisa is almost out of the kitchen the one word come clearly through the phone that all in the room hear. "Alisa" the voice said. This stops cheerleader Alisa in her tracks. Cheerleader Alisa turns around and listens. For a few moments no words are made out from the other side of the phone conversation and the woman at the table continues to listen. Then one more word can be heard clearly. "Slayer". 


End file.
